Chapter 8 - Ghosts
“Mama, Mama! There’s someone at the door.”
Eudora looked up from the bread she was kneading. “Let them in, Teddy, they’ll get soaked in this storm,” She called out.
Teddy left the table where he had been reading aloud to her and opened the door. Standing on the doorstep, dripping wet, were two men; Master Fynlas and a knight he didn’t recognize.
“Thank you, Teddy. Could you help me out of these wet boots and this cloak?” Fynlas unclasped the brass fasteners on his cloak as he took a seat on the bench that was the dumping ground for all of Eudora and Teddy’s hats, shoes, bags, and seasonal layers. Teddy draped the cloak over the edge of the bench, allowing the water to run off it’s waxed exterior into the tray intended just for that purpose. He then bent over and helped Fynlas untie the knots on his boots. The knight underwent a similar set of actions, just without the help of Teddy’s small hands.
Eudora was finishing up placing the bread dough back in the bowl for the second rise when the two men, followed by Teddy, entered the main part of the house.
Eudora covered the bowl of dough with a towel as she greeted her guests. “Fynlas, I wasn’t expecting you until dinner. I hope the storm wasn’t too bad. What brings you here so early?”
“Eudora, this is Ser Ander, of the King’s Guard. He has a message for you.”
“Scholar Conwae, I have a message for you from the King’s Council.” The knight gave her a half bow and only Fynlas saw her eyes widen for only a second. “They wish to see you tomorrow at high noon in their chambers to discuss the progress of the Greys. They understand that you are a Green and not a Grey, but that is why they want your imput. As a non-Grey weapons trainer, you are an outside voice with eyes on the inside. They wish for your unbiased opinion on the progress the Greys are making in both their wielding and their combat training. One of the head Guardsmen and a captain of the army will also be present for your report. Will the Council see you there on the morrow?”
Eudora looked from Ser Ander to Fynlas. “I…I don’t have much choice, do I?” she laughed nervously. “I will be there. Fynlas, can you…”
“Yes, of course! I’ll keep an eye on Teddy for as long as you need. I can finally get around to seeing how his hand positioning is going. According to Ravyn, he’s coming along nicely and may enter the Tower as one of the most experienced initiates in the history of Daraltis.”
“Thank you, Fynlas.”
Ser Ander nodded sharply. “That’s settled then. I will inform the Council right away. Thank you, Master Fynlas, for showing me the way here. Mei’shewa’s peace be upon this household.” He gave another quick bow before returning to the entry way to don his cloak and return to the palace.
“You’re going to the palace tomorrow, Mama?” Teddy asked, his eyes wide with excitement at the idea of his mother going to the palace.
“Yes, Teddy. I am going to the palace tomorrow. It won’t be the first time, but it has been a long time. Since before you were born.”
“Wow, really? What was it like?” he ran up to her and putting his hands together, begged her to tell him all about it.
“Well, it’s just a big house with lots of servants and fancy things. I wouldn’t want to live there; I like our house much better.” She pushed back his hair from his face. “Now, why don’t you go and get your book and keep reading? You had told me you wanted to finish the chapter before tomorrow.”
“Okay, Mama.” He ran off to get his book and he took it outside to sit in the garden to read it.
Eudora put one hand on her hip and with the other absently pushed a lock of her own hair out of her face. Fynlas’s touch broke through her thoughts, startling her a little.
“Are you alright?” he asked her, concern in his eyes.
She met his look and gave a small nod. “There are memories, but I will be alright, I think.”
“Are you sure?”
“Fynlas. It has been eight years. A lot has changed in that time. Teddy was born, Nohan died, we have a new king – and queen – and I am a scholar trainer. I think that I can go to the palace, to the King’s Council, answer their questions and return perfectly fine.”
“Yes, but eight years ago—”
“Eight years ago, I was a child carrying a child. Now I am a woman and a mother. I don’t have time to weep over shattered dreams and the unfairness of life. I know it all too well, there is no need to be held back by those feelings.” She turned away from him, looking out the window at the little boy in the garden with those dark curls that framed his face just the same way they had framed his father’s.
Fynlas didn’t say anything more. He could almost certainly guess the thoughts running through her mind. Words couldn’t help her, so he put his hands on her shoulders, gave her a gentle squeeze, then slowly walked to the back door.
“I’ll be with Teddy in the garden if you need help with anything.”
She just nodded, a faraway look in her eyes.
* * *
Dinner was quieter than usual. Eudora was more interested in looking at her son than making conversation and Fynlas was Teddy’s captive audience. The child didn’t show if he knew something was different or not, but his farewell to Fynlas before bed was more heartfelt and the hug he gave his mother before he fell asleep was longer and tighter.
Fynlas didn’t stay long after Teddy went to bed. He confirmed that he would look after Teddy while Eudora was with the council, saying he’d take him to his quarters in the Tower. She thanked him and walked him to the street.
The following morning, Eudora and Teddy walked to the tower together like usual. She dropped him off with Ravyn in the library, reminding him that he would be staying with Master Fynlas until she came to get him after her meeting. He nodded and gave her a hug before running through the library doors to his books.
She did her best not to be distracted during her first training session but her mind drifted too easily when she was supposed to be watching her students forms. Memories rose unbidden from the depths of her mind, things she forgot had she had forgotten about. Eventually, her mind settled and she returned to her usual self, much to the benefit of her students.
The morning flew by, and before she knew it, the time had come to head to the palace.
She exited the Tower by the same door that she had entered that morning. The door led her to the entrance courtyard. It was about seven fathoms from where she stood to the gates to the street that ran directly through the city. She had walked that paved path twice a day, every day, for the last year. She knew each stone, which ones would trip her if she were not careful and which ones needed replacement because they wobbled. If only she were about to tread that familiar walk.
Instead, she turned her feet slightly to the right where there was another stone path cutting across the courtyard. This one was longer, less trod, less known to her. It was a path she had taken but once, coming to the Tower from a painful conversation with the late king and his son. It had been pitch-black, even the Tower’s lamps had been extinguished. She was alone except for the tiny baby in her belly that had suddenly lost his father without ever meeting him, and he probably never would. She shook her head, dispelling the memory. Things have changed since then. The king is dead and his son now rules. You have moved on, everyone has. And there’s nothing to be done about that. She said to herself.
She adjusted her skirts and stepped down onto the stone path that led to the Palace.
The corridors that ought to have been dark and brooding were flooded with light from the sun shining through the huge windows. She made her way down the halls, in and out of the maze that was the ancient seat of Daraltis, built over several generations, until she found herself at the central stairwell. It was made of simple cobblestones, intended to remind even the haughtiest of kings of the humble origins of mankind. She took slow steps up to the base of the stairs, ghosts of the past dancing behind her eyes: a little girl chasing her father up the stairs, her brown braids bouncing; the girl more grown up – almost a woman – standing beside her brother, receiving the news of her father’s death; the girl, now a woman, actively falling in love with the handsome man who called these halls home; and that same woman shoved out of the place that should have been her home, leaving to never return. And yet, here she stood, foot on the bottom step of the staircase. Everything inside of her told her to leave, to not drag up any more memories, to stop torturing herself. Zachyal says to make new memories when the old ones try to hamstring you. That has worked well so far, this will be no different. I will go up these stairs, I will enter the Chamber of the King’s Council, I will hear them out and do what is required of me, and then I will walk down these same stairs, exit by the front door, and return home. A new memory will be made and these old and painful ones will slowly fade and lose their power over me. She straightened her skirts and ascended the stairs.
The council room was gently lit by sunlight filtered through thin curtains and oil lamps set in the corners of the room. The council members rose when she entered the room and greeted her kindly. She curtsied and took the seat offered her.
“Scholar Conwae, thank you for joining us.” Lord Cristof, the king’s chief advisor, said as she sat. “As our messenger surely told you, we would like your unique opinion on how the Grey Scholars are doing, not being a Grey yourself.” He motioned for her to speak.
“Yes, that is what I was told. Well, in terms of combat, they are progressing very well. They are all developing an aptitude to any weapon they take up. They are soaking up stratagems faster than I can teach them, and all – across all the levels – are continuing to develop their Wielding capabilities.”
“Thank you, Scholar. That is an encouraging report. Lady Rasolin has additional questions for you. My lady?” Lord Cristof designated the woman to his right. Eudora turned her eyes to the lady.
“Yes, thank you. I would like to ask you about the rumors we are hearing about scholars dabbling in forbidden magic and asking odd questions about a magical god-man. What is the meaning of all this?”
Eudora raised her eyebrows. “This is the first I’m hearing of these things, my lady. I didn’t know such things were going on. All I do is train the initiates and apprentices combat skills with both weapons and spells. What happens at other times and places in their education is unknown to me. I have been asked the usual questions about why some magic is forbidden, but never anything that has made me suspicious. Is this rumor widespread?”
“You know nothing of this rumor you say?” Lady Rasolin questioned.
“Yes, madam. I know nothing.” Eudora said confidently.
“But there has been interest in forbidden magics?”
Eudora tried not to frown. This felt like a trap. “My lady, the word forbidden is always bound to cause young and less wise minds to be curious. Curious minds ask questions. I want my students to ask me questions, not to be afraid to be curious. When they ask me questions about anything – but especially about forbidden magics – I will always answer their questions and try to help to understand in this particular instance why the magic is forbidden. To my knowledge, my explanations and cautions have not led to any of my students attempting to use forbidden magic. I am not telling them how to use it so they would have to learn that from someone or somewhere else.”
Lady Rasolin nodded. “I do not doubt your words. Your fellow Scholars speak very highly of your teaching and character. You give your father and your family honor with your actions.”
Eudora bowed her head slightly and thanked her.
“Was there anything else the council wished to ask me?”
The lords and ladies around the table looked around and talked quietly amongst themselves for a moment. Lord Cristof shook his head then stood and walked around to her chair. She rose and took his offered hand, shaking it.
“Thank you for coming and speaking with us, Scholar Conwae. Mei’shewa bless you and keep you.”
“And also you, my lords and ladies.” She bowed before leaving the room.
Once she was in the hallway, she leaned against the wall and took a deep breath. Forbidden magics. She was well versed in what was considered forbidden by the Scholars of the Towers of the Stars. Enhancement or melding, invisibility, shapeshifting, projection, corruption magic, all these and many more were considered black magics that went against Mei’shewa’s natural order. Most of those arts had been lost for centuries, either already forgotten or destroyed by King Rindare the Good. For there to be a concern now about students now possibly exploring, maybe even beginning to practice such magic, that was worrisome indeed.
“Eudora?”
The sound of her name from a familiar voice caused her to look up. Standing the doorway of another room a few doors down the hallways was the king. He was on the taller side and stout. His royal robes hung off his trim frame and the soft brown eyes beneath his neatly kept curly black hair were in contrast to the hardness of the rest of his looks. And those brown eyes were particularly soft. Her eyes widened and her mind blanked as to what she had rehearsed to say if they were to meet. She was saved by the appearance of the queen. Queen Madis was also a tall woman and she towered over her husband. She left the doorway upon seeing Eudora, taking her hand.
“Eudora! How good it is to see you here! I heard you were having a meeting with the Council? How did that go? I hope you are not in any trouble.” Madis smiled sweetly and Eudora was relieved to see that it was genuine.
“It went very well, thank you, Your Majesty. I am not in trouble, thankfully. There is a sort of internal review happening in the Tower and that was my interview on the subject. The Council is very good and kind.” She returned the queen’s smile, her eyes wandering over the queen’s shoulder to the face of the king.
“Wonderful. I’m glad to hear that. How is your son? He must be seven or eight now?”
“He is six, Your Majesty, and will soon be eligible to join the Tower as an initiate. I was told that he will be included in the next spring class.”
“You must be very proud of him, I’m sure.”
Eudora smiled again and nodded. “I really am. He is growing up so fast, and to be so much” – her voice faltered for a second but the queen didn’t seem to notice – “like his father.”
“You should bring him with you the next time you are in the palace, I should greatly like to meet the boy. Please do come again and sit with me in my parlor. It can get rather drab with Theodore out doing kingly things. Books keep a woman only so much company.”
“Thank you, ma’am. I will see what I can do. That would be a lovely time.” She curtsied.
“Come away now, Madis, there are things that we must attend to together. Scholar Conwae, it was good to see you. Blessings be upon you and your own.” The king stepped forward and took his wife’s arm and they walked off together through another door, deeper into the castle.
Eudora shook herself and made her way as quickly as possible back to the Tower to pick up Teddy before making her retreat back to the safety of her home.